


but i'm only human

by seemeeimbeebee



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-15
Updated: 2015-01-15
Packaged: 2018-03-07 16:18:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3177022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seemeeimbeebee/pseuds/seemeeimbeebee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"When Emma woke up that morning, she knew it was going to be one of those days. One of those days where every bone in her body felt like lead."</p>
<p>Emma's having a bad day. Luckily, she doesn't have to face it alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	but i'm only human

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Christina Perri's song "Human"  
> All characters belong to their respective owners  
> I hope you enjoy the fic! :)

When Emma woke up that morning, she knew it was going to be one of those days. One of those days where every bone in her body felt like lead.

_Get up,_ she chided herself.  _Get up right now. C’mon. Just get up._

Yet, she couldn’t get up. She curled into a ball instead, pulling the blankets up around her. All she wanted to do was close her eyes and go back to sleep. But she knew she had to get up. She had a job to do, Henry needed to be picked up after school, and there was so much she needed to do. And yet, Emma found that she couldn’t bring herself to move.

_C’mon, you lazy piece of shit,_  Emma’s mind snarled at her.  _Get up. Get out of this bed right now. Before everyone else realizes what a worthless piece of shit you are._

Emma’s breath hitched and she squeezed her eyes tightly, trying to banish the voice inside her head. Most days were either good or manageable, and then there were bad days. She’d had days like this before, starting from when she was a teenager. She hadn’t had a really bad spell since her post-partum depression after Henry’s birth, but every bad day always made Emma worry she was on the cusp of another spell. Even the night she slept in her car after losing control of her magic felt like this and she was worried. She wished she didn’t have bad days at all. She wished, more than anything, that she could just will herself to get up, that she could just go about her day, but she couldn’t.

_Look at you,_  her mind supplied.  _So pathetic, you can’t even bring yourself to get out of bed. It’s a miracle anyone bothers with you._  

“C’mon, I’m better than this,” Emma murmured out loud. She hoped that speaking out loud would silence the nagging voice in her head that kept insisting that she was pathetic and worthless. “I can do it. I can get out of bed. I…” Her voice caught, as she stayed underneath the covers, unable to motivate herself to get out of bed.

_You can’t. You’re probably the most useless Savior that ever was, you know that? It was Anna who saved the town from Ingrid and Belle who saved Killian from Rumplestilskin. You can’t even bring yourself to get out of bed. No wonder Henry wanted to stay with Regina during the Spell of Shattered Sight. No wonder your parents wanted another kid. Although, who’s to say that if they raised you that you wouldn’t be as much of a fuck up as you are right now? You’re worthless. You’ve always been worthless. You’ll always be worthless._

She knew her thoughts where irrational. Emma knew that deep down, everything she was thinking was completely and utterly irrational. But it felt the concrete truth at the same time. She couldn’t explain it: it was just the way she felt. 

“Emma’s bug is still here,” she heard her father say to her mother, momentarily breaking up the train of negative thoughts. “Should I go see if she’s ready for work?”

Emma rolled over into her pillow and let out a groan. Work. Right. They still had a ton of incident reports to file from the Spell of Shattered Sight.  Even though it was paperwork, it was still pretty important to have on file in case another curse like that ever swept through Storybrooke.

_C’mon, you need to get up. You have work to do. You’re a shitty Savior, but at least you’re halfway decent with filing. Now get up._

“David, just go, I’ll go upstairs and see where she’s at. You’re going to be late and only one Sheriff should be late instead of two,” Snow said, and by the sound of the footsteps, she was all but ushering him out the door.

The door closed and Emma braced herself for Snow’s soft footstep up the stairs. She stayed, face buried in her pillow. Emma listened, shoulders tensed as Snow White walked closer to the bed. The bed dipped as Snow sat at the foot of her daughter’s bed and ran her fingers gently through Emma’s hair. “Emma, sweetheart?” Snow White prompted. “Are you awake? You have to get up for work.”

“I can’t,” Emma whispered, rolling onto her side to look up at her mother. There was guilt and fear written all over her face. “I’ve been trying to get myself out of bed…and I just can’t. I’m sorry. You must think I’m pathetic.” Her shoulders were hunched forward in a desperate attempt to protect herself.

Her mother frowned and for a moment, Emma was sure that her mother was going to reject her, yell at her as she’d been yelled at so many times in foster care. It was completely shocking when Snow White leaned down and gently pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I don’t think you’re pathetic, sweetheart,” she murmured, stroking Emma’s hair back from her face. “If you’re having a bad day, then you’re having a bad day. It’s okay.”

“Really?” Emma asked, her voice catching. Like a frightened child, tears came to Emma’s eyes as she looked up at her mother. “You really mean that?”

“Of course I do,” her mother responded softly. “I love you no matter what, okay?” Emma nodded tearfully and Snow White dropped a kiss into her hair. She got up and Emma grabbed her wrist, silently asking her to stay. “I’m gonna go find a way to bring your brother up here, and I’m gonna make some hot cocoa, is that okay?” she asked. Emma nodded and let go of her mother’s wrist. She wasn’t really that hungry, but she hoped that cocoa would make her feel better, even if it was just a little bit.

She closed her eyes and tried to calm herself down, tears trickling down her cheeks as she stayed under the covers as her mother’s footsteps faded away. It wasn’t long before there were soft steps heading back up the stairs, baby babbling accompanying it. Snow White set up Neal’s playpen and sleeping area by the bed before climbing into bed beside her daughter. She reclined against the wall, running her hand up and down Emma’s back. Emma rested her head against her mother’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” Emma whispered. “I didn’t mean to inconvenience you. I’ll be better.”

“You don’t need to be anything than who you are, Emma,” Snow told her daughter softly, wrapping her arms around Emma tightly. “Your father and I will still love you no matter what. Henry will still love you no matter what.” She dropped another kiss into her daughter’s hair. “It’s gonna be okay. You’re not alone anymore.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Emma said with a little smile, curling in closer. She closed her eyes and realized that with her mother’s hand in her hair, it was harder to hear the voice that told her how worthless she was. She turned the volume off on her phone, not wanting to hear anything else.

\--

By the time Henry came home from school, Emma had gone from lying down in bed to sitting up like her mother had been. Henry stood at the door, shifting nervously from foot to foot.

“I think I’m gonna go downstairs and make some more hot cocoa and put your brother in his crib,” Snow White murmured fondly, dropping a kiss to Emma’s forehead.  “Let me know if you need anything, okay, Emma?”

“I will,” Emma responded softly, taking in the worry and concern that was radiating from her son.

When she was gone, Emma opened her arms up to Henry. The boy ran over to them and climbed in beside his mother and hugged her tightly. “Hey,” she murmured, running her hand up and down his back. “It’s okay, Henry. I’m fine. I was having a bad morning, but I feel a lot better.” She tried to remember if anything like this had happened in New York, and when she couldn’t, she squeezed him closer to her.

“Mom, Regina said that you were sick, and when I asked if we should stop at the pharmacy to pick you up some medicine, she said it didn’t work like that, and I thought you were gonna tell me you were dying or something,” Henry mumbled childishly. “I was really worried about you. I already lost Dad…I don’t want to lose you too.”

“Well, I’m definitely not dying,” Emma told him, stroking his hair to calm him down. “I’m…not fine, but I’m better. I’m not dying. You’re not gonna lose me, okay?” She sighed and she looked down at him, her heart clenching.

_Look at what a terrible mother you are_ , the voice in her head sneered.  _He thought you were dying all because you couldn’t get out of bed this morning. He must hate you. No wonder he likes spending time with Regina. You’re a hopeless mother. You’re ruining his life just by being in it._

Her stomach sunk as the thought resonated through her head. “I’m sorry, kid,” she murmured, her voice catching as she held onto him. “I’m sorry you got scared that you were gonna lose me, but I swear that I’m okay. I’m right here…I’m not going anywhere, Henry.”

“So why’d Regina say you were sick?” Henry asked, picking his head up from where he’d buried it in her shoulder. “Are you…” He made a face and vague hand gestures. “Are you having lady troubles?”

Emma laughed, her smile wide, and squeezed Henry tighter to her. Henry’s face blossomed into a bright smile at hearing his mother laugh. “No, Henry, I’m not having ‘lady troubles’,” she told him, only teasing him slightly. “I…” She pursed her lips, trying to figure out how she was going to frame this to her kid. “Do you know what depression is?” she asked, figuring being direct with him as possible was the best way to go.

Henry thought about it. “It’s like…when you’re really, really sad?” he asked, looking up at her, biting his lip. He didn’t quite understand why his mother couldn’t just choose to be happy if it was as simple as being really happy. 

“It’s a lot, lot worse than feeling just really sad,” Emma said with a sigh, continuing to stroke the back of his head. “It’s like when…it’s like somebody put a crockpot over your brain and you can’t seem to get out of the fog surrounding your thoughts. And the fog is made up of sadness and negativity.” He tensed up and Emma bit her lip, wondering if she’d made things worse by telling him. “That’s how I feel, anyway, when I have a bad day.”

“So is depression making a really sad chili out of your thoughts?” Henry teased weakly, looking up at her to make sure that was an okay joke for him to make. When she laughed, he relaxed and settled up against her.

“That’s actually a pretty apt description,” she admitted, thinking of all the types of negative thoughts she had during her bad days. “Look at you, kid,” she said, stroking his back. “You’re pretty sharp for a thirteen year old.”

He laughed and she smiled down at him. They lay there quietly, watching the television before Henry looked up at Emma again a little contemplatively. Her explanation made it easier for him to understand why she just couldn’t choose to be happy. “Am I gonna get it too?” he asked softly. She looked down at him, and he explained, “Depression. Stuff like that is usually genetic, isn’t it?”

“Well, it’s not untreatable if you did get it,” Emma told him. “You can go to more sessions with Dr. Hopper or you can go on medication, and you can always reach out and talk to me, or your other mom, or your grandparents, or Killian…you have so many people in your corner, kid. You are never going to be alone, even if you end up with depression, okay?”

The smile blossomed on Henry’s face and Emma couldn’t help but hug him tighter to her. “Yeah, we’ve got a pretty big family, don’t we?”

She smiled warmly at him, thinking about how her mother and now Henry had been here for her. She smiled and dropped a kiss into his hair. “And if you start to feel that way, let me know okay?” she asked. 

“Okay,” Henry agreed. He was quiet for a few minutes before he asked, “Are you gonna be okay?”

Emma nodded with a smile as she pushed his bangs out of his face. For the first time, she hadn’t had to deal with her depression alone. She felt supported and loved. “I love you, Henry,” she reminded him with a soft smile. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Mom,” Henry said, beaming up at her. She went back to stroking Henry’s hair. She found that with every stroke of her son’s hair, she felt like she could see think through more and more of the fog. 

 --

“Where’s Emma?” Emma was startled a few hours later when she heard the door to the loft swing open and heard Killian’s voice. “David said she was ill, and she hasn’t answered her phone all day.”

She’d turned the damn thing on silent so she could focus and not have to worry about anything. She picked it up and had a few missed calls and several concerned text messages from Killian. “Crap,” she muttered.

Henry got up to walk to the door to see what was going on. “You’re in trouble,” the boy snickered, looking over his shoulder at his mother. “She’s up here, Killian,” he called down, starting to head down the stairs. “She’s fine, she just turned the ringer on her phone off so she didn’t hear it.” 

Killian breezed up the stairs and stood at the doorway to Emma’s room. Worry was written all over his face, and she looked down.

_All that worry because you didn’t turn up the volume on your phone. How many times is he not going to be able to reach you before he gives up on you completely? When he does leave, it’ll be all your fault. You’re weak. He’s not looking for that. He’s become such a good man, one that you definitely don’t deserve. He should just leave you._

Her hands clenched into fists and she didn’t realize that Killian was kneeling by her side, holding one of her hands tightly in his own. “Sorry,” she whispered. She licked her lips and tried to get herself out of that dark thought spiral by teasing weekly, “You know, if you lay next to me in my bed right now, this may just be the only time my parents will actually be okay with you sleeping in my bed.”

He smiled indulgently, and climbed into bed beside her and held her close to him. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “No fever,” he murmured, running a hand up and down her back. “You want to tell me what happened, then? Or why you had me pacing about the town all day long in the hopes that I’d either run into you or you’d actually pick up your phone.”

Emma laid her head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat. She was so grateful for that tiny sound, and she focused on that instead of the intense guilt brewing inside her, or the voice inside her head that kept insisting that Killian was going to leave her because she wasn’t always strong. Like right now.

Killian kept rubbing her back patiently, in the hopes of an answer. When it seemed that she either hadn’t heard his question or forgotten, he prompted again, “Emma? Love? Are you all right? Do you want to talk about what happened today?”

“I just…had a bad day,” Emma told him. “I know it sounds really stupid but I just couldn’t get out of bed this morning. I know, I know, it’s stupid and pathetic, and I’m pathetic, but I just needed this day and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you and I made you worry.”

Killian regarded her for a few moments, making Emma worried that he was reconsidering everything about them. Though really, he was distressed that she regarded herself so lowly. It surprised her when he started softly, “You know, Emma, I get days like that from time to time too. They’ve never been as bad as the days after Milah’s death…I felt like I was made of stone and there would be weeks at a time where I couldn’t do anything but sleep and drink. Losing her brought back losing the feeling of losing Liam all over again.”

He stopped for a moment, just running his hand up and down her back. “I was so…overwhelmed by everything I couldn’t move. I couldn’t bring myself to move. I was stuck, in my quarters and inside my own head. The only thing that dimmed the voice—the one that told me how worthless I was because I couldn’t save them—was rum.”

“Yeah, I know how that feels,” Emma croaked out, pulling him closer. She held on like she could save him from all of his pain and heartbreak if she just held on tight enough. She held on like he was the only thing from slipping down her dark thought spiral. He held her tighter too, and for a moment, they just sat there.  “Do you still feel that way?” she asked after a few minutes.

“From time to time, but it only lasts for a day each time,” Killian answered. “When you get to be my age, you do develop some coping techniques.” He gave her a sly grin and she smiled against the crook of his neck. “It’s all right for you to feel that way,” he said softly. “It’s been a very intense few weeks. Neal’s death, our adventure into the past, the emergence of Elsa and the Snow Queen and everything related to that—including you nearly dying and another curse—and you had to return my heart to me.” He dropped a kiss into her hair. “All in all, you’ve had a very action-packed couple of weeks, my love.”

She blinked up at him owlishly for a moment. “Oh my God,” she whispered, when she realized that he was right. “It’s only been a few weeks since Neal died. This has all happened in the last few weeks. Now that we’ve finally had a moment, it’s all caught up to me…” She felt like a weight was lifted from her shoulders. She wasn’t on the verge of another bad spell of depression; she was just overwhelmed by everything that had happened in Storybrooke.

“Aye, and that’s all right,” Killian murmured patiently, leaning down to kiss her sweetly. She returned the kiss, a shy and hesitant smile pulling the corners of her lips upwards. “And even if you were having a bad day just because, that’s all right too, Emma. Just tell me next time and I’ll be here for you.” He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to hers.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” Emma murmured honestly, running her hand over his chest. It settled over his heart and she smiled as she felt the muscle thrum contentedly under her touch. “I just thought that isolating myself from everyone that wasn’t my mom would help me…but this family always finds each other, one way or another.”  She looked up at him, serious for a moment as she said quietly, “I’m still gonna have bad days. You can’t just…make it go away, you know.”

“I know,” Killian said honestly. “I know that I do whatever it takes and be there for you in any way that I can and it will make it better but it won’t make it go away. But I will be there for you, in whatever way that I can be.”

Emma knew, in her heart of hearts that he was telling the truth. “And you’ll let me be there too?” she asked. “On your bad days?”

“Aye,” he replied warmly.

 Emma looked up at him contemplatively before pushing back the covers in her bed. “C’mon,” she told him, smiling down at him. “Let’s go downstairs and join my family some time before dinner.”


End file.
